Ghosts that Haunt
by PennyStarling17
Summary: Steve is haunted with every step he takes. AU in which Bucky did die, but came back as a ghost.


"I know why we bury our dead and mark the place with stone, with the heaviest, most permanent thing we can think of: because the dead are everywhere but the ground." -Fugitive Pieces, Anne Michaels.

* * *

Steve rolled his glass between his fingers and reached for the nearby bottle of whiskey, trying to ignore the sirens in the distance.

As he wrapped his fingers around the neck of the bottle, a chill shot through his wrist.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

Jerking away in shock, Steve stared wide eyed at the one person who could not possibly be sitting beside him right now.

"Bucky?"

Bucky smirked at him as he pushed the whiskey away. "In the flesh," he paused and looked down at himself, a frown pulling at his lips. "Well, sort of."

"How are you-"

He shrugged and reached to take the glass out of Steve's hand. "After I landed I saw this bright light- yeah, I know. A bright light? What a fucking cliche. Anyways, I thought to myself, 'to hell with that crap' and then I was here, watching you try to drink yourself into a coma."

Steve stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm insane," he muttered. "I've lost my mind."

Bucky laughed. "It's me, Steve. You're not crazy."

"Why wouldn't you go," he made a gesture with his hands. "You know?"

"'Into the light?' Meh, it sounds boring."

Steve laughed, a hysterical edge creeping in. That was such a Bucky thing to say.

He casted him a worried look. "You ok, Steve?"

He shook his head. "I-I don't know. I'm seeing my best friend who's suppose to be dead and I'm trying to get drunk, but I can't or maybe I'm drunk right now and that's why I'm seeing-"

Bucky cut him off. "You're not drunk, I'm here, you're here. Though," he looked at the gaping hole in the wall of the bar. "You really shouldn't be. Didn't you hear the sirens?"

Steve shrugged, "Didn't care."

The disappointed look he was rewarded with made the ever present guilt in the pit of his stomach flare up. "You dumbass," Bucky scolded as he stood. "Come on, we're going back to base and you're going to bed."

"Bucky-"

"No buts! Base and bed, come on punk."

* * *

When Steve woke up in the morning, he was pretty sure it had all been a dream. But when he turned over, he saw Bucky sitting in a chair close to the bed, looking bored out of his mind.

"Thank God you're awake," Bucky sat up. "You have no idea how boring it is to sit around waiting."

Steve stared at him and asked the first thing that came to him mind. "Why didn't you sleep?"

He shrugged. "I can't sleep."

He nodded like it made sense and looked around.

"You ok, Steve?"

"You're still here," he blurted out, eyes locking on Bucky's. "I thought-"

Bucky waved his hand dismissively. "That you were drunk? Or that you had imagined me?"

He nodded and sighed, shoulders slumping as guilt crept onto his face. "Bucky-"

"Shut up, Steve. It wasn't your fault. I'm not here to blame you for my untimely death."

"It is my fault!" He shot out of bed and began to pace. "I should've-"

Bucky suddenly appeared in front of him, hands resting on his shoulders, making Steve wince at the sudden chill. "Listen to me, Steve. If it was anyone's fault, it's Zola's. You are not to blame." He smirked and parroted. "Allow me the dignity of my choice."

"You heard that?"

"Yeah and Carter's right. I made the choice to follow you and I don't regret it. So stop with the self blame, ok?"

He nodded, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Ok."

"Right." Bucky clapped his hands together. "Now that that's settled, let's go find you some grub."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, as they finalized their plan for attack on Hydra's last base, Steve and Bucky explored Bucky's new abilities as a ghost. They found that if he focused, he could paralyze a person for a short amount of time (an accidental discovery that came from trying to get Gabe's attention). He could teleport, sort of, and hear if Steve called for him from far away (both discovered after Steve had a bad nightmare and called out for him while Bucky was watching the Commandos play poker.)

They discovered Bucky could feel touch and move objects, but Steve couldn't feel his touch- other than a sensation that felt like a frozen feather on his skin and Bucky couldn't pick things up. They found that only Steve could see him and that when he was startled, he disappeared by some will other than his own and could stay gone for anywhere between a few minutes to several hours.

(The first time it happened, he was gone for a full day. When he reappeared, Steve was a wreck, thinking he had been gone for good. That wasn't a good day for either of them.)

* * *

"I gotta put her in the water," Steve said as he tightened his grip on the plane's wheel, eyes casting a glance to see Bucky frantically searching for something.

"Please don't do this. W-we have time. We can work it out."

He swallowed at the sound of Peggy's voice and responded, "Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. Peggy... this is my choice."

Bucky made a sound of frustration somewhere off to his right.

Steve pushed the controls down and the plane shifted with him, nose pointing to the water.

"Peggy?"

"I'm here."

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that date."

"All right. A week next Saturday at The Stork Club."

He nodded, biting his lips and trying to hold back his tears. "You've got it," he choked out.

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late." Her voice broke. "Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance."

"I'll show you how. Just be there."

He glanced to his left when he felt a chill shoot shoot up his arm. Bucky had his eyes on the fast approaching water, one hand clutching Steve's forearm, a silent sign of comfort and support in his decision.

"We'll have the band play something slow," he offered, turning back to his conversation, left hand releasing the wheel to reach for Bucky, silently revealing his fear.

"I'd hate to step on your-"

* * *

Standing in the middle of a shiny new futuristic times square, Steve looked frantically for a way out as a man calmly explained why they had been trying to trick him.

"You've been asleep, Cap. For almost 70 years."

As he looked around him, he could almost believe it. The area was filled with amazing looking cars and there were bright technicolor screens on the buildings above him.

Hearing a noise to his immediate right, Steve turned and saw a disgruntled Bucky standing beside him.

Sourly, he bit out, "He's telling the truth, Steve. We've been out of it for 70 fucking years."

"You gonna be ok?"

Steve kept looking at Bucky before glancing behind him, at the people blocking them in, at the world he had awoken to.

"Yeah. Yeah, I just..."

Bucky shot him a sympathetic look and Steve let his shoulders slump.

"I had a date."

* * *

As a clarifying note: ghosts in this universe can (best way to put this) teleport and they can move things. They can feel when someone passes through them and they feel touch, though when they touch people, the person will only feel coldness where they're touching. They can hear if someone calls for them from far away and if they're startled, they'll disappear to some dark and featureless place until they can regather themselves. The darkness distorts time. If they focus on someone, they can will themselves to that person's side. If they put they're mind to it, they can temporarily paralyze people.

This idea's been floating in my head for a while and I plan on writing at least two more chapters for it, which (hopefully) will be up by next weekend.

This is unbeta'd and I would love it if you would please review!


End file.
